


Rinse Cycle

by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)



Series: Sweet and Savory [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crack, Explicit Sexual Content, Felching, Food Porn, Literally tongue in cheek, M/M, Not the way clotted cream was meant to be consumed, Rimming, The good people of Devon would probably have a cow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7974487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdherderette/pseuds/PalenDrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a damn near impossibility to get authentic clotted cream aboard the <em>Finalizer,</em> and Hux is overjoyed when he finally gets his hands on the delectable treat.  He intends to savor every last bite, but a meddling Kylo forces a change of plans.</p><p>Or, what happens when you combine two Evil Space Boyfriends with one laundry machine and several ounces of delicious dairy.</p><p>Things, as to be expected, get a little out of hand...</p><p> </p><p>[excerpt]:<br/>The planet's rainy weather was a boon in providing the optimal conditions for growing grasses so fragrant and strong that only when fed a diet consisting of the local flora mixed with a small amount of Chintassa and Silvergrass could the animals produce a milk which tasted so rich and sweet.</p><p>The end result required patience; a slow warming of the milk, best when taken directly from the teat, to be set out afterwards in a shallow pan.  The cream, when done properly, would rise to the surface: thick and gooey blobs of sweet and nutty richness which could stick to a spoon and melt like the smoothest butter on the tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rinse Cycle

 

Hux tried to keep his hands from trembling as he stared at the box in front of him.  At first glance, it appeared unassuming: made of a plain brown corrugated cardboard, measuring two-and-a-half inches in each direction, and tied with a simple, red satin string.

Its contents had taken him nearly a year to receive.  It had cost him slightly more than an entire month's worth of credits, not including the additional ones which were needed to grease the dirtied palms of the even more slippery Pyke Syndicate.  They had been tasked with smuggling the box across enemy lines, as well as with keeping its cargo pristine--free from any excessive moisture, temperature fluctuations, or undue mechanical stresses which would turn its ingredients into a liquefied or congealed mess.

The metallic shine of an airtight gold lid welcomed him as soon as he opened the cover.  It lay nestled in a bed of tissue paper, surrounded by an extra cushion of the softest balmgrass.  He lifted the jar slowly, its contents a warm and honeyed yellow even underneath the sterility of the _Finalizer's_ lights.

Finally, Hux thought with a pleasured sigh. Honest to goodness clotted cream. Made from the milk of nerfs--not just any nerf, but the ones which were often found roaming outside the borders of the former Arkanis Academy. The planet's rainy weather was a boon in providing the optimal conditions for growing grasses so fragrant and strong that only when fed a diet consisting of the local flora mixed with a small amount of Chintassa and Silvergrass could the animals produce a milk which tasted so rich and sweet.

The end result required patience; a slow warming of the milk, best when taken directly from the teat, to be set out afterwards in a shallow pan.  The cream, when done properly, would rise to the surface: thick and gooey blobs of sweet and nutty richness which could stick on a spoon and melt like the smoothest butter on the tongue.

He spread a cloth over the clean lines of his desk and proceeded to arrange the items carefully.  A small plate of barley quickbread, lightly sweetened and glazed.  Strawberries, the fruit rinsed and hulled before mixing with sugar and lemon and canned under a hot water bath.  A pot of his favorite tea, made from the pinewood smoked leaves of the Nola grass and the delicate Mysess blossom, its strong fragrance and flavor the perfect complement for this nighttime treat.

He unscrewed the hermetically sealed lid of the small glass jar, reveling in the soft _whoosh_ which escaped as its contents were exposed.  He dipped a small, silver spoon into the middle of the thickened cream, staring at it lovingly before dropping a dollop onto his plate.  The amount was perfectly measured for one bite sized piece, and properly positioned next to the jam.  He held his hands steady, tamping down his excitement as he broke off a small portion of biscuit, spreading the cream and the strawberries thickly over the flaky crust, before bringing it to his lips.

Hux bit back a groan at the symphony of flavors which burst in his mouth.  He chewed, savoring the buttery texture of his scone, the remnants sweetened by the sugared fruit and softened by the melting thickness of the clotted cream on his tongue.  There was something about the experience which brought back memories of his early childhood, of sitting in a bustling kitchen, anxiously awaiting the grown up snack as his mother set about preparing their afternoon tea.

He sighed as he finished the heavenly morsel, and proceeded to repeat the steps with the next.  His craving partially sated, he was able to proceed at a more leisurely pace.  He leaned back, holding the newly prepared scone to the side while retrieving his datapad with his free hand.

Hux frowned as he scrolled through his latest messages.  The first outlined the updated coordinates for one of the First Order's suppliers, along with tomorrow's projected 08:00 docking time.  The other provided an estimate of the necessary repairs and their associated costs for several of the starboard's turbo lasers, damaged during one of Kylo Ren's increasingly frequent fits of pique.

Hux felt his face flush in anger as he thought about the infuriating man-child. The Force-user possessed an utter lack of discipline, and a continued disrespect for any semblance of order or procedure. His tantrums were a disgrace, and his mystical mumbo-jumbo had been unproductive in achieving any of the Supreme Leader's goals to date.  He stomped around Hux's ship swathed in the protective layers of his robes, a swirling whirlwind at odds with the precision and neatness which Hux demanded not only of his officers, but especially of himself.

As he continued to mull over Ren's numerous shortcomings, Hux lifted the scone to his mouth.  In his distraction, he neglected to note that the cream had since softened, and that the jam had begun to slide.  As he bit down, the jellied offering fell partially into his mouth, while the remainder oozed outside.

It happened in the blink of an eye.   Hux experienced a growing horror as he realized that the sticky, messy substance was now dangling precariously from the bottom of his lip. He leaned forward to grab a napkin from his desk, lifting it towards the offending material before losing the battle with gravity as the jam let loose of its tenuous hold, landing onto the front of his previously pristine jacket with a sad _plop_.  He dabbed ineffectively at the blotchy mess, sighing exasperatedly as it dampened and grew.

He quickly weighed his options. The meeting with the suppliers was to take place at 08:00, and laundry pick up was not until 09:00. Wearing the jacket with such a conspicuous blemish was obviously out of the question.  A lesser man could have relegated the task to one of his lieutenants, or perhaps even a petty officer, but the _Finalizer_ was _his_ ship, and as such, there were protocols and appearances to uphold.

The only solution, Hux decided, was to take matters into his own hand.  He was going to have the launder the jacket himself. Tonight.

He stood, making sure that everything was neatly ordered and returned to their proper place. The jam was tightly covered, and the quickbread put away.  He picked up the jar of clotted cream and screwed on the lid, hesitating as he placed it back on the ampohr top.

Although his room was equipped with an access code, Hux knew that nothing was ever _entirely_ secure.  Ren himself had been known to override the pathways on occasion, and he wasn't about to allow that hulking beast to abscond with his greatest prize.  He had spent too much, and waited too long, to leave such a luxury to the hands of fate.

He carefully placed the jar back into its protective box, ensuring that the tissue paper covered all its sides, then lay the small silver spoon diagonally across the top.  He quickly made his way through the laundry room while cradling his precious cargo.  The corridors were nearly empty at this hour, the silence of his journey broken only by the clicking of his boots and the metallic hum of the industrial washers as he entered the lower level.

He stepped through the durasteel doors and scanned the wall.  Rows upon rows of washers and dryers were in use, churning, wringing, cycling, turning.  Some were designated for specialty fabrics: a coated drum to handle glistaweb or fleuréline weave; one equipped with a special sensor for baffleweave; and one with a constantly changing interior to clean chameleon cloth.  The majority, however, were heavy duty, all purpose machines, equipped to handle anything from sackcloth to syncloth, and rugged enough to meet the day to day needs of the _Finalizer's_ crew.

It should only take thirty minutes of his time.  If only he could find an empty machine...

Hux stopped, his surprise quickly replaced by an impotent rage.  There was only one washer available.  And someone had already claimed it.  The usurper's back was turned towards the door as he stripped away the multiple layers of his soiled clothing, treating the room as if it were his own personal refresher, and not a place for public use.

The male proceeds to bend over, lowering the straps of his suspenders over his thick biceps as he readies to remove his trousers.  Even without his helmet, Hux would know that clumsy, burly, loutish body anywhere.

"Ren."

Kylo turns around slowly.  The water has begun to fill the drum, and the gurgling increases as the layer of sudsy bubbles grows.

Hux tries to keep his nose from wrinkling in distaste.  The oaf smells of dirt and burnt ozone and sweat.

"I require the use of a machine.  It is a bit of an emergency.  Perhaps you can return in half an hour?"

Kylo looks at Hux blankly, before his lips settle into a petulant frown.  "I've already put some of my clothes in.  Plus, I was here first."

Hux grits his teeth.  With the number of times Ren has forced him to adopt this expression, it's amazing he has any left.

"I only have this one jacket to wash."  He points to the stain, fearing it has already begun to set.  "I need to see to it as quickly as possible, before it becomes an impossibility to remove."

Kylo looks over at the dark stain with interest.  "What is it? Blood?"

Hux keeps his face straight, although he is sure that it is faintly pink.  "Strawberry jam."

"Huh," Ren grunts, as he returns to filling the wash.

Hux is filled with a sudden desperation.  He doesn't want to be reduced to begging, but he senses that Ren is getting a perverse satisfaction from denying Hux what he needs.

"Ren, please.  I need that machine.  At least we can share."  He stifles a shiver at the thought of placing his normally pristine jacket in the same water as Ren's heavily soiled clothes.

Kylo looks at Hux.  "There's no more room," he states, adding another pair of socks.

Hux walks over, frowning as he peers into the machine.  "There is plenty of room."  Well, perhaps not plenty, but just enough.  He watches as Kylo unzips his trousers and pulls them off.  There is _so_ much material that is needed to cover those ridiculously long legs, and by the time Kylo shoves that last piece of clothing into the water, there is barely an inch to spare.

Kylo turns to Hux clad in only his underwear and smirks.

Hux needs to act quickly.  His fingers fly, unbuttoning his jacket as fast as possible as he removes it from his slim form.  Kylo's eyes widen when he realizes Hux's intention, and he reaches for his own robes in response.

Hux watches in disbelief.  The idiot was actually going to try to put in that massively huge waste of cloth--a synthetic, woolen mix which required special handling, no less--into an already crowded, all-purpose machine.

Hux runs over to the washer, jamming his jacket against the mass of sodden, black clothing.  Despite his haste, he makes sure that the stain sits correctly under the soapy water line before he slams the door closed.  He presses a series of buttons, the machine beeping and humming to life as it starts the wash cycle. 

"Ha!"  Hux stares at Ren triumphantly as the taller male crosses his arms over his broad chest and glares.  They watch each other silently until Hux finally leans back against the worktable and sighs.

He doesn't trust the possibilities of what could happen should he leave Ren down here alone with his garment.  He clenches his fist at the thought, but the movement is impeded by the brown box which he still holds in his hand.  Hux sets it down gently, his fingers remaining protectively close to its side.

Ren looks down and spies the carton.  He concentrates on it for a second, taking in its unusual dimensions and simple appearance.

"Is that...?" he asks, his golden-brown eyes lighting up like those of a child.

Hux narrows his eyes.  He wasn't sure if Kylo had the ability to deduce what was inside the box by using his special powers--as incredible as the clotted cream was, it was a non-sentient object, after all--and he himself hadn't felt the sifting pressures associated with a mind probe.  He watched Kylo's expectant expression carefully.  Perhaps Kylo Ren, dark side-wielder would not be familiar with the nuanced sophistication of Hux's rare cream.  But Ben Solo, the son of the Princess of Alderaan, would.

Hux opened the box slowly, delighting in the look of longing which crosses Kylo's face.  He remembers that the nerfs on Alderaan were also famed for producing milk nearly as sweet.

"Oh yes, Ren," he drawls as he unveils the nearly-full jar.  He turns it around slowly, the overhead lights catching the creamy yellow texture of the thickly decadent spread.  "Mind you, this is not just _any_ clotted cream.  This was not made from the watered-down, protein-deficient milk of the banthas or the falumpasets, or--" at this point, Hux lets out an involuntary shudder "--the _mogos_.  This, Ren, is the finest, sweetest cream which can be found, made from milk freshly obtained from the teats of a young, Arkanisian nerf."

Hux could swear that Ren actually lets out a moan.  His brown eyes are firmly trained on the jar in Hux's hands, and there is a quick intake of breath as Hux slowly removes the lid.

Hux takes the silver spoon and dips it into the cream.  He makes sure to collect a portion of the darker yellow, globular crust as well as the rich and silky spread.  He raises the spoon to his lips and places it on his tongue, savoring the sweet and soft flavor.  He makes a show of it, licking the bowl of the spoon with the flat of his tongue, and swirling around the neck of the handle with its pink tip.  He places the head of the spoon in his mouth one more time before drawing it out slowly, making sure to suck every bit of cream off its surface until it re-emerges, shiny and clean.

Hux looks at Ren.  The knight's eyes are wide, and his thick lips hang slightly open.  There is a pathetic look of want and frustration on his face as he stares at the now-empty spoon.

Hux digs the spoon back into the cream, and because Ren actually licks his lips at the sight, Hux shoves the utensil to the bottom of the jar.  He scoops up a serving which is much too large, but all the better to taunt Ren with.

He lifts up the spoon again, precariously balancing the heavy mound of cream against its delicate curve as he waves it with a flourish just out of Ren's reach.

"Don't you wish you could have some?" Hux croons.  "How much do you want it, Ren?  What would you do for One. Little. Taste?"

Hux makes a motion to bring the morsel to his lips once more, but in that moment, Kylo moves with a speed which belies his huge and awkward frame.  He steps towards Hux, grabbing his thin wrist and holding it in his meaty grip.  Both of their eyes widen as the spoon begins to waver and tilt, the cream moving along with it until it slides off and lands on the floor.

Hux turns several shades of red as he stares at the thick and sticky mess now painting the allacrete surface.  The amount lost was enough for at least four, possibly five, helpings.  He is filled with a sudden fury as he looks up at Ren, his own face a mix of horror and surprise, as if he were a little boy who had just been caught in the act of doing something very naughty.

"Look what you made me do," Hux hisses.  In saying so, Hux suddenly realizes that all of the terrible events of tonight were due to Ren.  It was Ren's fault that he continued to damage First Order equipment, thereby distracting Hux with messages regarding their repairs.  It was because of Ren's failings that Hux was forced to consider the detriments of dealing with his infuriating co-commander, delaying the consumption of his scone.  It was because of Ren's obstinate and recalcitrant behavior that Hux was forced to spend his evening standing in a laundry room, his officer's jacket intermixed with a bunch of dirty rags, engaging in petty behavior unbecoming of a General of his stature, and losing a lamentable portion of his highly desirable and extremely expensive clotted cream in the process.

It is for all these reasons that Hux loses any semblance of self-control.  He bends down and picks up the sad and softening lump from the floor, an oily, greasy and semi-solid mess, and it is with somewhat of a spiteful satisfaction that he wipes it along the front of Ren's drawers.  He takes out his anger on the thin fabric, rubbing his palm back and forth, grinding and smearing in the fatty remains of what had once been a smooth and velvety substance until the cloth is fully impregnated with its residue.  He is mesmerized by the darkening material, the deepening shade of black which expands beneath his hand as he continues to massage and knead.

It is only due to the sound of Kylo's choked cry that Hux emerges from his stuporous state.  For the second time tonight, Kylo is gripping Hux's wrist, but when Hux steps back, he notes that there is a wild look in those brown eyes.  Hux looks back down at Ren's boxers, and notices that in addition to being extremely soiled, the material is now tenting outwards as the tip of Ren's prick bursts forth.

 _Well,_ Hux thinks.  His mother did always tell him to share his treats.

He shoves his fingers past Ren's panting lips and into his gaping maw.  Kylo lets out a moan as his thick tongue slips between Hux's oily digits, sucking desperately at the hint of sweetness which remains underneath the greasy slick.  He pulls out Hux's fingers and licks them one by one, laving along the sides and in the webbing between.

Hux feels his cock twitch in response.  He removes his hand; it is wet with Kylo's spit.  He smears it against the knight's chest in distaste even as he pushes him down.

Hux eyes Kylo like a cat would a mouse. 

"Did you like that, Ren?" he asks, his voice dangerously soft.  "Do you want more?"

At Kylo's eager nod, Hux unfastens his trousers and lowers them around his thighs.  He scoops a generous helping of the cream into his hand and slathers it onto his cock, noting how the honey cream color compliments his flushed skin.  He slowly strokes his shaft, making sure he covers the entire length, from the spongy tip down to his tightening balls.  It feels so good, dressed in that warm and unctuous slick--faintly sweet and a bit nutty, and infinitely better and more costly than a Corellian whore's mouth.

"This is expensive stuff, Ren," he rasps, shoving his rock hard prick in front of Kylo's eager face.  "I don't want you to waste a single drop."

His heart beats faster as he watches Kylo's lips wrap around the turgid length.  No matter what his other deficiencies, there is one thing which the Jedi Killer is undeniably good at, and that is sucking cock.  His tongue swipes at the base, flicks the slit, and laves the shaft.  His lips are red and glistening, coated with Hux's precome and mixed with the residue of the cream.  Ren is utterly committed, fellating Hux as if he had never wanted anything as much, or tasted anything as good. 

Hux startles, the realization breaking through his lusty haze and the sensations emanating from his traitorous prick.

Ren is enjoying this.  He is going to town on Hux's cock, tasting every inch, loving every second of it and it's all because of _Hux's_ _clotted cream._

It takes a force of will to pull away from Kylo's grasp.  Hux ignores the plaintive whine which leaves Ren's swollen lips, and the aching throb in his abandoned cock.  He stands Ren up and turns him around, yanking down his underwear as he bends him over the table.

Because if anyone is going to be experiencing the nuanced flavors and various exotic pairings with the clotted cream tonight, it is going to be Hux.

He dips his fingers in the jar again and scoops out the most generous helping yet.  He leans over a pliant Ren and whispers an order into his reddening ear.

"Spread yourself apart for me," he breathes as he nudges those long legs further apart.

Ren's thick fingers grip his cheeks and pull.  Hux watches, fascinated by the contradiction of the flexing muscle and the softness of those jiggling globes.

He takes his fingers, massaging the cream into Ren's buttocks, his hands sliding effortlessly over the oily, fleshy mounds.  He swipes along the cleft, staring as the consistency slowly changes from thick to soft, eventually liquefying into a fatty yellow fluid under Ren's heat.  It drips down, trickling onto his pink and furled hole, hanging valiantly onto the puckered tissue until Ren finally opens and it's sucked inside.

It's displayed brilliantly: the clotted cream, in all of its varied states.  Hux sticks out his tongue and licks over the largest portion of Ren's ass, the section with the greatest amount of muscle and fat.  It sits the furthest away from his body's core, and as such, the cream is still somewhat firm.  He feels the thick, familiar texture on the flat of his tongue.  As he delves further, he detects the saltiness of Ren's sweat.  It adds a pungency to the taste, as if the cream were spread over a savory scone.  He hums his appreciation as he continues to lick.

Once he is finished, he moves to the space in between Ren's cheeks.  Some of the liquefied cream has found its way onto Ren's balls, and Hux addresses this first lest it finds its way onto the ground.  He maneuvers his head underneath Ren's legs to achieve the proper angle and gives them a tentative lick.  The saltiness is considerably more noticeable.  He continues to lick, comparing the squishy, pulpy feeling of Ren's scrotum with the roughness of the thin, sensitive skin.  He takes a ball in his mouth, feeling it's heft as he suckles gently, then releases it as he exchanges it for the other.

By the point, Kylo has become a less cooperative subject, moaning loudly as he squirms and wriggles his hips.  Hux can't very well conduct his experiments accurately if his tongue lands in multiple areas due to Ren's inelegant motions, so he stills those moving buttocks with a loud slap.

"Stop moving."  Hux attempts to warn Ren again by punishing him with a firm grip, but his thumb slips on the slick surface and becomes partially embedded within Ren's puffy hole.

This prompts more bucking and pathetic whining from Ren.  Hux realizes that the window for further gastronomical inquiry has narrowed, so he pries apart those clenching cheeks with as much force as he can muster and promptly buries his face in Ren's ass.

Hux tries to breathe in through his nostrils, knowing how aroma can affect a food's taste.  He first discovers the woody and complex notes, followed by the musky aromatics and the suggestion of a milky bottom.  The sweat from Ren's movements have diluted the liquid somewhat, so Hux tries to drill down to the source, jabbing and plunging his tongue into Ren's velvety sheath.

He finds it difficult to focus with how much Ren is screaming and moving about, but he continues to taste, ignoring the dripping oils, saliva and sweat which coat his face and his chin.  Hux nips and stabs at the widening hole, grazing the sensitive skin as he traces the juices which cling to its edges.  He chases after something stronger, stiffening his tongue to lick inside the walls but encounters resistance as Ren clenches, arching and writhing against his face.

Hux withdraws reluctantly, the experiment at an end.  He looks over to the small container sadly.  A thin crescent of yellow lines the bottom of the otherwise empty jar.  He remembers what it felt like to have the cream grease his cock, the viscous friction against his hand, and the smooth slide it produced when inside Ren's mouth.

He picks up the jar, running three fingers along the entire inner circumference, procuring every last drop.  He coats his prick reverently, embedding into his memory the sight, the smell, the feel.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spies Ren watching him expectantly, his cock red and leaking, hole twitching and pupils blown.

He tugs at Ren, bending him over the table once more as he positions his prick against his ass.  A firm push is all it takes to breach Kylo's loosened hole, and a second one to slide all the way in.

Hux stills, fighting against the rush of sensation.  The cream is better than any oil, lotion, or lubricant.  It has _just_ the right amount of viscosity, perfect for the dynamics and kinematics of anal fucking.  He rears back and drives into the blubbering knight, marveling at how everything adjusts to the increased movement as the cream thins to maintain the ideal amount of friction for his rapidly pumping cock.  It was visually and aurally flawless as well: every appearance of his prick revealing an oily sheen, every thrust punctuated by the filthiest _squelch_. 

Hux can't hold back; Ren arches once again and howls, and his ass is so warm and so incredibly tight, and the scent of musk and sex and the clotted cream is overwhelming.  Hux pistons his hips as he reaches for Ren's cock.  He pumps the shaft several times until Ren comes with a strangled cry, his own vision blurring as Hux fills that delectable ass with the pearly white thickness of his own come.

Hux drapes his exhausted body over Kylo's back.  He's nearly fully sated, he thinks languidly as he removes himself slowly from that well-muscled, thoroughly sweaty heap.

He withdraws his softening prick gingerly as Ren's well-fucked hole flutters in protest.  It is still open and wide, and a mélange of liquids begin to trickle out.

Hux's mother had also taught him to never let a good thing go to waste.

He falls to his knees, catching the dripping residue from Ren's wobbling thighs with the tip of his tongue.  He tries to stop the outflow at the source, sucking and slurping as it spills, streaks which were creamy yellow, pearly white or limpidly clear.  It spills into his mouth and fills his throat, the different tastes exploding on his tongue: salt, sweet, bitter, sour and fatty.  He can't get enough.  The combination of his fluids and Ren's, bound by the clotted cream, is one of the most filthy and delicious things he has ever tasted. 

He sighs as his suckles a gasping Kylo dry, the flavorful liquids no longer forthcoming.  Hux sits down next to a naked and boneless Ren.  He studies his figure, noting the graceful lines of his back, the slimness of his hips, the strength in his legs, and the plushness of his lips.

 _His lips_.  Hux realizes with a start that he had forgotten to test the properties of the clotted cream when eaten off of those moist and pillowed lips.

Hux is a man of science.  He is a military man who is known for his absolute precision, and irreproachable thoroughness.

If he puts in his order now, he may be able to obtain another jar before the new year.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Come say "hi" on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nerdherderette)


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